


How to Please Your Husband

by papergardener



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Héctor is a sub, Imector, Nipple Play, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Self-Indulgent, Sequel, Smut, Tied To A Chair, enjoy you heathens, everyone is very hot and bothered, fight me, historical kinkiness, loving consensual sex, the wedding night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papergardener/pseuds/papergardener
Summary: Héctor wants to try something new in the bedroom, and soon finds himself tied to a chair, alarmingly naked, and with Imelda perhaps a bit too eager. What has he gotten himself into?Imector PWP. Loving, consensual, kinky fun-times.





	How to Please Your Husband

_Hey, uh, Imelda? So I wanted to ask you… I mean, I was wondering... so you remember when we, uh…_  
  
_What is it?_  
  
_Remember our wedding night?_  
  
_Wh- of course I do... why?_  
  
_Ok! So listen, I was wondering if you might be interested in doing that again?_  
  
_We… already do that, Héctor. Literally just last night. You were there…_  
  
_No, no! I mean specifically the uh, the part where I um… ok, don’t get mad!_  
  
_Just tell me!_  
  
_All right, all right! So the part where I was lying on the bed, you know? And I… I couldn’t move? Or see?_  
  
_Uh huh…_  
  
_So I was thinking... maybe we could… do that again?_  
  
_Again?_  
  
_Except you know… better._  
  
~~~  
  
Héctor was starting to question himself as he was soon entirely unable to move, and alarmingly naked.  
  
“So, uh, if I suddenly change my mind…”  
  
“Getting cold feet?” Imelda said teasingly as she finished tying his left leg to the chair, forcing his legs apart. She had agreed to this whole thing a lot faster than he had expected. That was good, at least. Probably.  
  
“No! A little… maybe…”  
  
She stood up. “Try moving.”  
  
He tried, and he couldn’t. Imelda stepped in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest, openly eyeing him, and he was again very conscious of how naked he was. Of course, she wasn’t wearing much either, just a lightweight slip. But at least she could move. He couldn’t. At all. Once again he twisted his hands at their bindings behind his back, the rope biting into his wrists but they were good and stuck.  
  
“So what were you saying?” she said mildly, tilting her head left and right with a small smile.  
  
He bit his lip. What had he gotten himself into?  
  
“Uh, ok, so if I change my mind, you’ll get me out, right?”  
  
“Hmm, the real question is how will I know when you want out?” She moved to the other side of the room to her little vanity, turning her back so he couldn’t see her hands.  
  
“What… what do you mean?”  
  
“I think this might be necessary.” With a sly grin, she held up a thick, tied-up piece of fabric, although Héctor just squinted in confusion until she brought it over and held it to his lips.  
  
“Open up.”  
  
He gulped, but did as she said and soon tasted rough cotton as she secured it in place.  
  
“How is that?” she asked, and he nodded. Good, good, he thought, chewing it experimentally. He sometimes had a tendency to get loud, this fixed that problem quite nicely.  
  
“Now the final touch,” she said, holding up a second piece of dark fabric, and again he wasn’t sure what she had planned as she brought it to his face. His first instinct was to jerk away as she held it up, but then held still as she wrapped the cloth over his eyes, effectively blinding him.  
  
“This is more for me, to be honest.” She fiddled with it as it caught in his hair. “But I think it might be fun for you too… almost got it and… there. Done.”  
  
Her hands stopped mussing with his hair and then were gone, and he was faintly aware of her stepping back, silent.  
  
A thrill of terror and excitement went through him as he sat there, breathing hard through his nose. Tentatively he pulled at his binds, then truly struggled against them, but they didn’t budge.  
  
He couldn’t move, or speak. She could do whatever she wanted, and he wouldn’t even see it coming.  
  
He was entirely at her mercy.  
  
That was… hmmm… it was certainly a bit terrifying, but he couldn’t deny the growing heat between his legs, like the fiery burn of tequila, but better.  
  
“All right,” she said finally, making him lift his head in anticipation. “I think you’re all set. How are you doing? Ready?”  
  
He hesitated, then nodded.  
  
“If I do anything wrong, or you don’t like it, you need to shake your head, all right? Otherwise I’m going to ignore all the noises you make.”  
  
He nodded again, shivering and hoping he hadn’t just gotten himself into something very, very stupid.  
  
For a minute… nothing.  
  
He just sat there, waiting and listening for any hint of noise, feeling like he was alone in a dark, dark room. Where was she? Most likely she was simply enjoying the view, the thought of which made him flush, and he restrained himself from squirming, could almost feel her eyes raking over him.  
  
He couldn’t blame her too much. She rarely got to see all of him, especially not like this. Not since their first night together after the wedding, and that had been almost two months ago. It had been cool that night too, he thought absently. Already he was very aware of the cold air on his bare skin, but there was also a growing warmth, and already he could feel sweat beading on his forehead.  
  
There was a tiny creak of a floorboard, as she finally moved closer. A hand lightly touched the top of his chest, right below his adam’s apple, and then slid downwards, and he arched into the touch.  
  
“I’m trying to think what might be fun,” she said conversationally. “Maybe I should have asked what you wanted earlier. Guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”  
  
He hummed encouragingly, and was suddenly thankful for the gag because he had no idea what he might have said, or if he would have had the nerves to put forth any ideas. Already he was rather enjoying this.  
  
She was too, apparently. Her hands trailed up and down his body, teasing over his shoulders and ribs and tickling over his stomach, making his muscles twitch, but surely she would do more than just a little light touching. Maybe he really should have asked for something more.  
  
Then, her roving fingers came to one nipple and he stiffened when she paused, then circled the tender flesh, making his hair stand on end while he struggled not to moan.  
  
_Keep doing that_ , he wanted to say, and was almost glad he couldn’t, as he grew uncomfortably warm under her teasing. Then she paused, her fingertips just barely touching, as if considering. He held his breath, waiting and tense. Then the finger brushed against the nipple and he shuddered.  
  
“Oh…” Imelda whispered in a hushed voice, and Héctor could imagine why, could already feel his face burning as his dick sprang up at that touch. “I guess you like that.”  
  
She lightly flicked the little nub and he desperately tried to pull his knees together as his cock twitched again. It was embarrassing to have her watch him so openly, to know just how badly she was affecting him, but his legs were still well and truly stuck, and they both knew it. It was humiliating, but there was something else- a throbbing, growing heat, and truthfully, he just wanted her to keep going and not stop.  
  
Her fingernails grazed downward, digging into his skin and he let out a whine, muffled by the gag. His body shuddered as she came to the soft nub again and tweaked it.  
  
“I was going to ask if that was ok, but I think I already got my answer,” she said teasingly, and he could almost hear her biting her lip as she kept playing with him while he moaned. He breathed hard through his nose and squirmed, and- oh God- the sharp bit of her fingernails drove something wild through him.  
   
“I almost forgot how sensitive you are…” Then both of her hands were on him, intermittently scratching down his chest and then pinching his nipples while he moaned and pulled at his bindings, his muscles trembling. Something tickled under his arms, and it took his overactive mind a moment to realize it was his own sweat sliding down his ribs, cool against his burning skin.  
  
Then her hands were gone, and his whole body went rigid and alert as he breathed hard through his nose, wondering when and where she would touch him next. There was a faint rustle like the slithering of fabric, and he lifted his head like a dog catching a scent. What was she doing? He chewed the rough fabric between his teeth, thinking more and more the gag was a good idea, made things easier… didn’t have to think about words. Where was she?  
  
He flinched when, from nowhere, one of his nipples was suddenly brushed against, and then she twisted it until he groaned. It almost wasn’t fair how good that felt.  
  
“You know, I’m thinking this was a pretty good idea of yours,” she said, stepping closer and straddling his right leg, her skin just brushing against his thigh, and only inches from his straining cock. For a moment his mind was consumed with the desperate want for her to just step forward and touch him, for some kind of pressure. With a muffled whine he tried to jerk forward, loving and hating how trapped he was.  
  
“Keep making those noises,” she said breathlessly, and made him groan when she kissed his neck, her mouth so hot against his skin.  
  
He rolled his head back, aware of his arms and legs trembling, and wished he could beg for more, for relief. For her to just touch him! But she just kept teasing him, and he was pretty sure it was on purpose. Through the heady fog he could sometimes catch her own little moans and pants, as she continued to play with his body, her hands bold and firm, her touch everywhere except where he needed it most.  
  
His dick was growing increasingly uncomfortable, absolutely aching, but she seemed to be ignoring it. He moaned, hoping she might notice and do something about it, but she seemed quite insistent upon anything but that.  
  
Then a warm weight was on his leg making him lift his head with a whimper. He almost staggered when he realized she too must have removed her clothes, as her hot mound pressed directly against his thigh. He breathed hard through his nose as she seemed to intentionally push down, and then ground herself side to side, pressing down against him.  
  
“Good?” she asked.  
  
He could only groan and nod in response, his legs shaking beneath her. She was so close. Rather suddenly, everything was too hot, almost spinning. Oh God… it was getting harder to breathe. Her hands went back to their fun and he thought he might lose his mind, his black vision lighting up with white on the edges, and he twisted against her, pulling at his bindings. He kept trying to gasp through the heavy cloth, and was slowly becoming dizzy. He tried to work his jaw, but his body wasn’t responding right.  
  
“Héctor?” Imelda asked suddenly.  
  
He could only take short jagged breaths, his mind growing faint. But he shook his head slowly side to side, and meant to tell her that no, don’t worry, he was fine. Fine… he just couldn’t breathe.  
  
The next moment there were fingers fumbling at the back of his head, and he bent his head forward thinking it might help, and also because his head was spinning. The gag was pulled loose and he was suddenly gasping, the sound strangely loud in his ears. His mouth hung open but he couldn’t yet speak, and felt drool drip from his lips onto his chest.  
  
“Héctor? Amor?” Her hands cupped his face, lifting his head. “Are you—“  
  
“Ayy… ay, I’m good,” he managed to gasp. He couldn’t see her face, but he could well enough imagine her expression, and his mouth twitched up in a hopefully comforting grin. “Bueno…”  
  
“Should I stop?”  
  
“N-no! Ayy, not yet!” he said quickly, his body still thrumming and desperate. “Not like this, nnn…” He bit his lip, just barely holding back from literally begging for her to continue. His dick was aching, and he might never get to experience this again. Although, it did seem that Imelda was enjoying it as well. Quite enjoying it, based on her earlier moans that had slipped past her lips, and from her hot wetness pressed against his leg.  
  
“Good, good…” She kissed his cheek, brushing hair from his blindfold, and he realized his bangs were damp with sweat. “I wasn’t done yet, either.”  
  
He feebly nodded and let his head hang forward, as they both caught their breath. He didn’t want to be done yet. Although… although perhaps this was good. He had been very, very close, agonizingly close, and he needed to calm down, make this last.  
  
Vaguely he wondered if she would put the gag back in, it had been nice. Surprisingly so. But for the moment, it was nice just breathing freely, and he idly ran his tongue over his lower lip.  
  
“Do you want the blindfold off as well?”  
  
“N-no… no, I’m good.” He really didn’t mind it. In fact, it was quite fun. And he knew that Imelda would grow shy again once it was off. While he was blind, she could be free to do what she liked, and that was exactly the way he wanted it. Besides, in the darkness, he became more aware of all of her: her breaths and gasps, the hard bone of her hip, her soft breasts pressed against him. He wished he could reach out and touch her, the beautiful soft warmth of her. But she was still in control.  
  
Thankfully, she didn’t immediately go back to teasing him. Instead she curled up against him running a hand along his hip, and then she sighed into his neck, a beautiful sound. He grinned as she stroked along his cheekbone, his chin, dipping down his neck, tracing along his chest where she had scratched earlier, and he wondered if there would be marks come morning. There was a faint, surprising pressure on his lower leg, and it took a moment to realize she was simply rubbing her foot against his leg, gently back and forth, almost like an afterthought. It was strangely endearing, and almost disorienting among all the other sensations. Especially because she decided to take advantage of the quiet lull, and his own helplessness, and kissed him everywhere. His cheek, his neck, around the shell of his ear, and she too was gasping and the sound was as sweet as her kisses.  
  
Then the gasps took on a different tone, as she began to rock against his leg again. It started slow, almost imperceptible, but he could intimately feel her every little shift and movement. Soon the gasps and kisses turned to moans, as she seemed to find just the right way to spread her opening against him. It was unbelievable how hot she felt, almost burning his skin. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he thought he could _feel_ her inner depths pulsing against his leg, and his cock throbbed, readily coming back to attention. Then she paused.  
  
“Is… is this all right?” she whispered, uncertain, embarrassed. “What I’m doing?”  
  
“Yes! Yes, yes, keep doing it,” he gasped. “It’s good, you’re good.” It was unbelievably good, and he loved imagining her writhing with pleasure, head thrown back and skin glinting with sweat as she used him.  
  
There was a kiss along his jawline in thanks, and she began to squeeze against his leg, rocking back and forth, her hips rolling and- _God_!- he wanted more of her.  
  
He heard a long, low moan, and he was almost surprised it wasn’t him who made it. There was a little noise of scuffling as she re-positioned herself, pressing down and his leg trembled. He nearly leapt out of the chair when again her hand went to his nipple, twisting and rolling around it. Immediately his dick was once again absolutely hard and beating all through him, and she _still_ hadn’t touched it.  
  
“I-Imelda?” he said, his whole body shaking.  
  
“Mmm?” She kept rocking against him, one hand trailing along his stomach, so close to his aching, dripping cock, but still no even a glancing brush.  
  
“Please, ah, just… unnhhh…” He lost it when her fingernails scratched upwards over his stomach.  
  
“Please what?” she whispered, then kissed his shoulder, and he could feel her smiling.  
  
“Ah, ahhh… p-please touch me, mi amor. I-I’m begging you, please…”  
  
From nowhere a hand touched his cock, feather light, and he strained against the ropes, then whined when it disappeared again.  
  
“Unh! Ay mi! I can’t, I can’t—“  
  
“Keep begging,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “Tell me what you want.”  
  
He bucked his hips up with a pitiful whine.  
  
“Nnnn! Please! Please, ahh, I need… I need you to touch me.”  
  
There was a finger on the tip again and this time he held his breath and waited, but she didn’t move and he jerked against her on instinct, almost crying from need.  
  
“Ayy, Dios! I want, I need your hands on me, on my cock, aahh, m-more, ah…”  
  
His pleas were rewarded when her finger circled, pressing down on the dripping slit as her fingers curled around the underside. He groaned. She was teasing him, and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t enough.  
  
“Harder! Uhh, please… más fuerte!”  
  
The pressure increased, and then her hand encircled him, flicking over the tip and stroking down.  
  
“Ayyy, Imelda! Eso!” He bit his lip as she squeezed at the base, and felt his legs quivering. “F-faster, ah Dios!”  
  
She did so, and both hands were upon him, squeezing and pumping up and down, sometimes one hand fumbling around his balls that sent spikes of pleasure all through him. Everything seemed hyper-sensitive in the darkness behind his blindfold, every touch and caress unforeseen. She seemed to be everywhere, yet still her touch made him jerk and twitch. All the while she was still rocking against his thigh, and he could feel her arousal trickling down his leg, cold and ticklish.  
  
“I-Imelda, diosa, ahhh… ahh, please…”  
  
He didn’t know what he was asking for, but the words spilled out, and he thought he might lose his mind if she kept going like that.  
  
“Please! A-ayyyy mi! Imelda I—“ He was abruptly silenced by her mouth upon his own, and he had never felt her so aggressive, so dominating upon him, and he thought he might melt.  
  
“Sssh,” she whispered between hot pants, and he was painfully aware that she had stopped moving, solid and steady above his quivering body. “Hang on- hang on a little longer, all right?”  
  
He meant to answer but she kissed him again and he only groaned into her mouth, twisting his shoulders to try and get closer, wonderfully helpless beneath her.  
  
Her hands left his cock and he could have cried from sheer want, was sure he would go mad if she didn’t let him come right then. Worse yet, the next moment she lifted herself off him entirely, and there was a chill where she had sat upon his leg. Where… what was she doing?  
  
For a terrible moment he thought she was going to leave him there, wanting and throbbing for who knows how long. But just as he opened his mouth to beg otherwise, there was a sudden heat at the tip of his throbbing dick, a wonderful, familiar pressure. His breath shuddered and died in his throat. Her hand gripped his cock, positioned him at her entrance, and then she pushed down and he was suddenly inside her and oh, _oh God_!  
  
He swore something or other, vaguely conscious that words escaped his lips, but he could barely hear his own thoughts. All he knew was the sudden weight of her body, and the burning, throbbing, pressing heat around his cock.  
  
Imelda moaned, wiggling on top of him and driving him crazy. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and dug into him, and he wanted to reach out and grip her, to press his hands against her soft flesh, her hips, her warm breasts so close to him. But he was trapped and could only moan and shiver as she squirmed on top of him, rocking back and forth.  
  
“I-Imelda. Move...ah, por favor!” he begged, trying to buck his hips under her weight, absolutely desperate.  
  
Slowly, so slowly, she began to move up, then slowly down, and Héctor threw his head back and bit his lip to try and bite back the whine creeping up his throat. It was like she was burning around him, and all he wanted to do was thrust deeper into her, to feel her pulsing around him. His hands pulled so hard against the rope he thought it might snap.  
  
“Faster, ugh, please, faster!”  
   
He was panting and aching and oh, oh, so close! Her rhythm picked up, as did the sound of her moans, going faster and faster as her fingers and hands gripped and scratched his shoulders and back, and she seemed to be all around him. Wonderful, so wonderful and hot and squeezing around his cock and, and-  
  
Her hand suddenly clapped over his open mouth, stifling his moans as he rose higher and higher, closer and closer to the dizzying release. Soon her body squeezed tight around his cock as he heard her gasp and swear against his ear, pressing tight against him. His whole body shuddered as something inside him burst, his toes curling and back arching up, his world going white and then again a deep, deep black. Eventually he came to his senses, gasping open-mouthed, still twitching within the hot, pulsing heat of her.  
  
She continued to slowly move up and down on top of him, rocking back and forth as they both panted against each other, their bodies shaking and sticky with sweat. Finally she stilled with him still buried deep inside her, and simply sat upon his lap, draping herself over him. That alone was so, so nice, Héctor thought dreamily, feeling the warm, soft weight of her upon him. His whole body was throbbing and numb, and he opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, and so shut it again. He was completely destroyed, unlike anything he had ever felt or could have ever imagined.  
   
With a little groan, Imelda shifted a little, rolling her hips. For a moment he was afraid he would become hard again, unsure if he would be able to survive a second round. Then she pulled herself up and off him and he made a faint whimper, already missing her, the lovely, surrounding heat of her.  
   
But she was still there, still warm and soft against him. Her arms lazily looped over his shoulders and he felt fingers at the back of his head. Moments later the band around his eyes slipped off. Yet it took a few moments before he could actually open them, blinking away the blurriness, the room only slightly less dark then the pitch-blackness he had come from. A warm hand brushed his hair aside, and Imelda gently lifted his head so he was staring at her, blinking stupidly. At her loving expression, he barely managed a crooked grin, to which she laughed, then kissed him softly on the cheek, then a quick brush against his lips.  
  
“Let’s get you out of there,” she said, and he just nodded, letting his head fall forward again as his hands came free, then his left leg, then his right. Even so he could barely move, everything from his mind to his body was sluggish, but wonderfully so.  
  
“All right?” she asked, coming around to his front and rubbing his wrists and his hands, and it took a little effort to flex his fingers, the feeling slowly returning under her tender touch.  
  
He grinned up at her, taking in her own lovely nakedness, how her damp wisps of hair stuck against her face, the soft glint of candlelight on her beautiful brown skin.  
   
“Have I told you yet…” he said, reaching out a hand and cradling her hip. “That you’re amazing? And that I am the luckiest man in Mexico? And that I have absolutely the most wonderful, incredible wife?”  
   
He pulled her in for another kiss, soft and sweet like honey.  
   
“So I take it you enjoyed it?” she said, running a hand along his cheek.  
   
“Very, very much,” he said, meeting her eyes and wondering how he could ever love her more. “Gracias... You?”  
   
“Sí. Very, very much,” she repeated back with a shy grin.  
   
She helped him to his feet, a little unsteady but fine once the spinning stopped, and stepped over to the nearby bed. Immediately he collapsed upon it, feebly kicking back the sheets and sinking down onto the pillow, and thought he might sleep for a year. Imelda crawled in beside him soon after, but he was already slipping away towards sleep. He had to blink and shake his head a few times to be able to focus on her.  
  
“Te amo, Imelda,” he whispered. “Ay, amor, that was… that was just—“  
  
“Sshh, you can sing to me all you want in the morning,” Imelda cooed, nuzzling against him, soft and lovely and warm. “Right now, sleep.”  
   
He silently pressed a kiss to her forehead, and let his head fall back onto the pillow. Almost immediately his body seemed to drift away and succumb to the dark peacefulness of dreams.  
   
(In the morning he woke up with beautiful scratches, and a grin he carried all through the day)

**Author's Note:**

> How to please your husband…  
> Imelda: Uh, tie him to a chair and make him beg?  
> Héctor: Yes.  
>    
> Big shout out to Héctor and Imelda for being beautiful, lovely people who deserve to be happy.  
> Can't believe I wrote this, whoops. Well, hopefully at least someone enjoys my ridiculous PWP.


End file.
